(no subject)
well rudog, here you are. you bought a piece of shit car after selling hte corolla that you and your friends put hours into. about friends, where would yoube without brian, he's what you could call a savior i guess. back to the car, of course ammi and thathi are pissed, but i wish wish wish that hopefully one day i can do soemthing that he'll be proud of and i wont have to cry every time he talks to me. i wish i could say "i love you" to them and not be scared, instead of just saying "love you." and i know know know that it'll be too late when i have the strength to add the "i" before the next two words. i'm ready to give up, everything. there's little keeping chained, and brian is one of them. i wouldn't care if i left, and i dont care if it was selfish or something, but of course i'm a pussy.
i hate this feeling, i have nothing to lose really, so might as well lose it all. i dont it would be a big deal if i left, maybe my dad could get a son that wasn't a disaster or a fuck up. i might as well go smoke out and inject and snort and do whatever else, then i'll be a disaster. i miss peanut, and i love him so much. i'm working on that car so much when i come inside and i see his little stub wagging i just feel so bad, i feel like i've been a bad brother to him. i wish i could care about him more than others things. sometimes i wish i wasn't dark, and sometimes i wish i am more into my culture. in anycase, i'm ready to give up, i dont want to go to moorpark, i dont want to really work on the car but brians drive makes me want to work on it. i dont want to go to school, i dont want to do anything, and if you know what i mean i mean anything.
would it really be that different, and would it really matter, and who would really give a damn. sometimes i wish i had some type of faith in something, but i'm scared, and i will always be scared to say i'm a type of religion or follow a certain belief because of that day in 8th grade. you throw everything i mean everything you can out, and you hope someone can really grab on and give a damn more than you do, and you just dont know why it doesn't happen. you could be the most awesomest thing that ever stepped into their lives and it doesn't matter, and this has does not have to do with me, sorta sometimes. you can only want and do so much, and then you just have to quit. and quitting is my new friend, and he tells me to, and i want to.
one day thathi, i hope you're proud of me, and i hope i dont cry when you say you are. i hope i do something that he can really be proud of.
i am, bruised and battered i couldnt
tell what i felt, i was
unrecognizeable to myself
saw my, reflecttion in the window
didnt, know my own face.